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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25180426">Where Demons Roam and Goddesses Sleep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndIWasLikeWhaat/pseuds/AndIWasLikeWhaat'>AndIWasLikeWhaat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Assassination, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gangs, Gen, Male My Unit | Byleth, Mercenaries, Mercenary My Unit | Byleth, Minor Violence, My Unit | Byleth Twins, Organized Crime, Tags May Change, Urban Fantasy, some edeleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:15:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25180426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndIWasLikeWhaat/pseuds/AndIWasLikeWhaat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins Byleth (male unit) and Beleth (female unit) think they’re pretty good at their jobs, all things considered. The elder sister Beleth might have to assassinate a politician one day and refrain from murdering her students the next, while the younger brother Byleth often shoots wedding photos on weekends and bullets on weekdays.</p><p>Things change, however, when they are hired by an anonymous client to protect a little girl. Her name is Sothis, suspiciously like the goddess in that urban legend. And everything seemed to go wrong from there.</p><p>They thought they’d seen the underside of it all. But in this city where creatures slither, where demons walk, and where a goddess wakes from her slumber, it can get a whole lot deeper than they thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Just Another Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Byleth refers to the male avatar while Beleth refers to the female avatar!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h4>
  <div class="center">Remire Tower, Adrestia</div>
</h4><h4>
  <div class="center">First Day of the Horsebow Moon, before dawn</div>
</h4>
<p>Byleth dearly missed his sister as he put the gun against the target’s skull. Beleth was good at talking, she was good at explaining things to other people. It’s why she tutored those nasty rich kids at Garreg Mach University. She’d know what to say to get this politician to spill his guts without letting him know that she was literally going to spill his guts.</p>
<p>But alas, Byleth was the twin ungifted of the gab. He resorted to hoping the cool metal on the man’s temple was enough to magically pull information out of his mouth.</p>
<p>“Tell me about what you saw last Monday, around half-past three in the morning.” Byleth could see the sweat gleaming off the man’s cheek, his darting eyes casting glances towards his interrogator’s unmasked face. He was trying to memorize it, Byleth knew.</p>
<p>What Byleth knew that the man did not was that the Ashen Demon would never let their face be exposed so easily. Whether this man gave him information or not, the mercenary would be putting a bullet in his skull.</p>
<p>He only lamented the time it would take to clear the scene without his sister to help. If those damn kids were stupid enough to need a tutor, they should just fail. His irritation renewed his desire to get his job done quicker. All he needed was a recorded confession.</p>
<p>“Well?” Byleth’s gloved hand nudged the weapon against the man’s head. “Any answers at all?”</p>
<p>“I— I didn’t see a thing! I was asleep in my hot—”</p>
<p>“Your hotel room, yes, room 1808 of the Martritz Building on Airmid Avenue, the one whose window is recorded on security footage to have lights on and movement by the windows? That one?” The man shut up. “No, please continue. If you were asleep as you say, I wonder… Maybe you could tell me what you dreamt of?”</p>
<p>The man sputtered out the beginning of a sentence, but Byleth cut him off.</p>
<p>“Perhaps an incident of some sort? You know how dreams are strange and people you know show up randomly, right? Maybe, and this is just a suggestion to jog your memory, but maybe, just maybe, you dreamt of your wife. She was, perhaps, getting murdered? With a hammer. I’m a bit more interested in the lack of fingerprints anywhere in the room, despite the two of you having stayed there for three nights. Did you dream that as well?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t, I didn’t do it…” His eyes were bulging now, spinning around the room. They glanced at the door often. Either the politician was hoping to make a run for it, or he was willing his slain bodyguards to come back to life. “I didn’t— <i>You have no proof</i>!”</p>
<p><i>Idiot, we don’t need proof to kill you.</i> Byleth scoffed. Did the man think he was some sort of law enforcement? He considered just ending the job, telling the client that he tried, but the man was a tough nut to crack. But…</p>
<p>Okay. One more push. This time he’d take a page out of Beleth’s stacks of books.</p>
<p>“Say, mister,” Byleth pondered out loud. “It’s almost dawn, and I’d sure like to catch the sunrise. How about we make a deal?”</p>
<p>“A deal?” His voice shook less than it did a minute ago. Any hope for this man probably felt like a raindrop in a desert.</p>
<p>“Yeah, a deal.” Byleth lifted the gun away from the man’s temple. All the tension and energy seemed to thaw out of the man almost instantly, leaving him a limp puddle on the floor. It seemed like it was taking all of his remaining energy to look up at Byleth, whose gun had already disappeared into his coat. “You tell me what happened last Monday, and I’ll talk to my client.”</p>
<p>“Why would you do that?”</p>
<p>Byleth shrugged.</p>
<p>“You’re a man with money, aren’t you? Not the best business strategy to shoot potential clients. Hell, if you hire me later to merc the guy who hired me to merc you, I’ll do it for the right amount.” He raised his eyebrows. “Well? The sun’s not gonna wait for me, and I’m sure as hell not gonna wait for you.”</p>
<p>The man nodded vigorously.</p>
<p>“Yes, okay, I did it. I killed her because—”</p>
<p>The man didn’t get to tell Byleth the reason before the bullet left the barrel of the gun and passed through his skull. The voice recorder clicked as Byleth stopped its use.</p>
<p>The mercenary cleaned up quickly, nestling the gun into the corpse’s hand and pushing the pads of his fingers hard against the polished metal.</p>
<p>Contrary to what it might have looked like, Byleth was not framing the killing as a suicide. There were two parts to an Ashen Demon hit, the first of which was leaving the gun used to shoot the bullet with the body. The second part was lighting a cigarette and placing on the floor, which was exactly what Byleth did before heading out the room</p>
<p><i>The Demon did this</i>, was the message. Every hit came with this declaration. The mark of the Ashen Demon. Personally, Byleth thought it was kind of tasteless. But that was just what the mercenary known as the Ashen Demon did. He sighed as the door closed behind him, never looking back at the corpse nor the smouldering cigarette.</p>
<p>After leaving the building, Byleth stripped off his gloves, replacing his phone in his coat pocket. He lifted it to the pink and orange in the sky to snap a photo, which he texted to his sister. Beleth’s reply was almost immediate.</p>
<p>“I submitted some of your photos to a show. It’s on the 8th, and you’re coming.”</p>
<p>He sighed, texting back a thumbs-up. At this point, Byleth didn’t even have the will to fight against his willful — compared to him — sister. He didn’t mind terribly about where his photos were or who saw them, either.</p>
<p>Byleth turned to glance back at the building he just exited. Remire Tower was an old apartment building in one of Fódlan City’s boroughs, Adrestia. Here, the rent was cheap and the occupants weren’t familiar with each other. He pondered how many days it would take for the body to rot, then after that, how many days until someone filed a complaint about the smell.</p>
<p>Byleth considered it. A small-time politician like Kostas Ironking wouldn’t have anyone looking for him. His wife was the wealthy one of the unhappy couple, and her money was the reason Kostas’ career got off the ground to begin with. She had had the connections, not him.</p>
<p>Yawning, Byleth turned down the road, heading to his apartment. Maybe he could get a few hours in before Beleth kicked him out of bed.</p><h4>
  <div class="center">An alley near the Blaiddyd Estate, Faerghus</div>
</h4>

<h4>
  <div class="center">First Day of the Horsebow Moon, morning<div class="center"></div>
</div>
</h4>
<p>The budding morning cast insufficient light into the crack between two buildings, barely wide enough to fit some trash cans and an abandoned sofa. Still, three figures gathered together in the lazy gray alley.</p>
<p>“I really suggest you don’t sit on that,” the red-headed one said in a playful tone to the blonde one about to settle down. “You only throw out a sofa if something bad won’t come off. Blood, bugs, or…” He grimaced.</p>
<p>“Okay! I understand, Sylvain.” The blonde-haired man sighed, straightening. His tall form leaned against the wall instead.</p>
<p>“Boar,” the third man said. He had sharp features and a face that rested at a scowl. “Your dog isn’t with you? I thought he followed you around on a leash.”</p>
<p>“Please don’t refer to Dedue in that manner, Felix.” The young man paid no heed to the insult directed at him. “I asked him to look into a few things regarding the carjacking cases from last week. Anyway, Sylvain, why did you call us here this early? Is this rumor of yours so important?”</p>
<p>Sylvain opened his hands so his palms faced up and outwards. “It’s no longer a rumor, as it turns out. My sources just confirmed it: a politician from Adrestia was assassinated. All the bodyguards were taken out. The gun was in his hand and a cigarette was by his body.”</p>
<p>Felix visibly clenched his fists while the other young man ran his hand through his hair. Both knew what this meant.</p>
<p>“The kicker is,” Sylvain continued, “the politician? Some guy named Kostas Ironking— a short record of local accomplishments, probably better known for his wife recently dying.” He leaned against the stone wall of the alley. “So the question is: Why hire the Ashen Demon to kill a nobody? And before you ask, yes, Kostas was a suspect in the murder.”</p>
<p>“What kind of overkill is hiring the Ashen Demon for revenge? That’s absurd,” Felix noted.</p>
<p>“It is.” Sylvain and Felix turned to the remaining young man, whose eyes had become dark even as the alley grew brighter in the rising sunlight. “Revenge isn’t something you ask another to do. Whoever hired the Ashen Demon had a different purpose… Even so, it’s worrisome that anyone with enough money on their hands could eliminate a public figure, just like that.” His body seemed to tense and hunch, his posture becoming more beast than man. “The Ashen Demon is a monster with blood on their hands, killing for money. Are they not the type of problem the Blue Lions need to target?”</p>
<p>“Tch,” the black-haired one spat. “The ‘demon’ is just a weapon, nothing more. While we waste our time wondering how to dispose of it, someone with the guts and money is going to pick it up and point it at someone. <i>Those</i> people are the ones we have to go after, not some merc.”</p>
<p>His companions were quiet, until the redhead began to applaud slowly.</p>
<p>“That was quite poetic of you, Felix. I’m impressed! Don’t glare at me like that,” he added nonplussed by his friend’s glare. “I agree with you, though. Dimitri, the Ashen Demon isn’t the problem right now. I’ll get Ashe to investigate the client, but that’s as far as we can go right now without knowing the whole situation.”</p>
<p>“Yes… yes, you’re right. We should be heading out now.” Sylvain and Felix nodded, walking out the alley. Dimitri placed his calloused palms on the rough brick wall, pushing off and out of his lean. Each step was heavy with thought as he exited the alley into an already-bustling street of Faerghus.</p>
<p>“Right now,” Dimitri muttered, yellow bangs hanging over glimmering feral eyes. “The Ashen Demon isn’t our problem <i>right now</i>.”</p><h4>
  <div class="center">Sauin Street, Leicester</div>
</h4><h4>
  <div class="center">First Day of the Horsebow Moon, dusk</div>
</h4>
<p>The bronze young man was looking at the sky when the car pulled up next to him, snapping him from his upward gaze.</p>
<p>“Judith,” he greeted as he opened the passenger door, slipping in along with a canvas duffle bag. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”</p>
<p>He couldn’t tell if the woman in the driver's seat looked at him or not, as she was wearing wide sunglasses that obscured the top half of her face. However, he could tell that she was smiling when she spoke.</p>
<p>“It’s no problem. Wouldn’t want the boy getting lost his first time in the big city!”</p>
<p>“Haha. I’ve been in town for two weeks already.” He sighed. “I asked you to drive me because I have a question about the incident this morning.”</p>
<p>Judith was quiet. Then, “You already know about that?”</p>
<p>“Bits and pieces. An Adrestian politician was killed in his office, the gun left in his hand. That same gun was used to kill his two bodyguards stationed outside the office. So it’s most likely a professional kill. Kostas Ironking, age forty-five. His wife was recently murdered.”</p>
<p>“So?” The young man clenched the armrest in one hand and his duffle in the other as the woman stepped on the gas as they entered an expressway. Judith laughed. “You have most of the information already. I don’t have much to tell you. Why don’t <i>you</i> tell <i>me</i> what you think about the situation, boy.”</p>
<p>“Well…” the young man thought out loud, “His death was ambiguous. The way I see it, there are three possibilities: a suicide, a hit for personal reasons, or a hit for political reasons. While the gun was found in his hand, suicide is the least likely option; after all, why kill your two bodyguards if you’re just going to end yourself? There was no note found, either… so, unlikely.</p>
<p>“The second and third seem more plausible. Clean shots straight through the head, one bullet each. That kind of efficiency means it's someone whose profession is death. A hit for personal reasons is understandable if Kostas was the one who killed his wife. Likely, to say the least. But politically… is also understandable. He was running for a low office in the Adrestian borough. That’s not enough to get killed over, though. Probably a member of the Hresvelg Family. And if that’s the case, then there’s any number of reasons to have Kostas killed. He said too much or saw too much— something like that.”</p>
<p>“Mmhm. Go on.”</p>
<p>“Out of the three, I’d go for politically-motivated assassination. Out of all the parties that could be responsible… I doubt groups in Leicester and Faerghus would pick a fight with the Hresvelg Family out of the blue like this. Which leaves the Hresvelg Family themselves.” The young man’s hand covered the lower half of his face, his eyes gazing at a point far off into the distance. “An internal conflict in Adrestia? That won’t end pretty.”</p>
<p>The two drove in silence for a while as the young man simmered in thought and Judith said nothing to deny his proposition. She’d had this exact discussion earlier this morning with leaders of the Alliance— just with more shouting and bickering. The setting sun gave its last glint on the windshield before settling below the horizon, the silhouette of Fódlan City growing larger and more looming.</p>
<p>“So,” he began again, “My question was about what the Alliance is going to do. If the conflict really is internal, that’s not a small issue. The first thing <i>I’d</i> do would be finding out the identity of the killer and their client.” He turned his head to face the driver. “But I haven’t been informed of any movement on my grandfather’s part. Am I missing something?”</p>
<p>Judith chuckled. “You sure you haven’t been here two years, not two weeks? The Riegan Group has kept you out of the loop for the entire time you’ve been here, but you already have your own information network.” She gave an appreciative huff. “You got almost everything, beat for beat. Adrestia’s underground is teetering on the edge of civil war. When an organ fails, the body dies. Fódlan City will shatter if Adrestia does. It’s quite the issue.”</p>
<p>“Then—”</p>
<p>“You got one thing wrong, boy. Just one. Every person in this city with a brain knows <i>who killed</i> that nasty man.” Judith smirked, giving him the side-eye. “Everyone except for our clever heir to the Riegan Group, apparently.”</p>
<p>“Spare me, Judith,” the young man sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Happy?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Judith laughed. Ever since he had arrived in Fódlan City, she’d taken a special joy in teasing the boy. “Your mysterious information network didn’t clue you into this? It’s simple, really. I’m sure you can figure it out. What the Alliance is investigating is <i>only who ordered</i> that politician’s death.”</p>
<p>The young man stretched his interlaced hands over the headrest of the car, just as they arrived into the heart of the Leicester borough, the road and signs shifting as his head tilted.</p>
<p>“‘Who ordered,’ huh. You mean to say that the person who pulled the trigger, the physical trigger, went and confessed, turned themselves in? No, that’s not it.” His arms slumped back into his lap. “It wouldn’t be a serial killer either… A killer that can kill unpunished? What kind of leverage does this assassin have?”</p>
<p>“Boy, you are so close.” The traffic light blinked to red and the car slowed to a halt. “Here are two names you want to remember if you really intend on succeeding Oswald Riegan. The first one is Horsebow-20. It’s a mercenary company affiliated with anyone and everyone important in this city.”</p>
<p>“The assassin is protected by this Horsebow-20? I find it hard to believe that one merc has that much power, even if the company has connections.” The car accelerated once more.</p>
<p>“It's easy to believe once you know that those connections are with the Seiros Conglomerate. And ‘that one merc’ is the second name you should remember, boy. The Ashen Demon.”</p>
<p>“Wow, sounds scary.” Claude pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the car window, watching the streetlights illuminate one by one as the violet of dusk began to descend, the people of Leicester bidding goodbye to the vestiges of the golden sun that couldn’t be seen behind the towering skyscrapers. The yellow glow of streetlamps passed rhythmically across the young man’s face, as he smiled, closing his eyes in contemplation.</p>
<p>“Seems like I’ve come to a pretty crazy place. A city that lets demons just walk the streets, huh.”</p><h4>
  <div class="center">The Hresvelg Estate, Adrestia</div>
</h4>

<h4>
  <div class="center">First Day of the Horsebow Moon, night<div class="center"></div>
</div>
</h4>
<p>“Lady Edelgard.”</p>
<p>The young woman at the window ran her fingers through her shining silver hair. It appeared ethereal, perhaps ghostlike in the moonlight that shone from the window. She didn’t bother to turn at the voice from the shadows; on the contrary, her form relaxed after hearing the man’s familiar rasp.</p>
<p>“Hubert. The report?”</p>
<p>“Neither the Aegirs nor the Varleys have been moving outside of our expectations. Bergliez and Hevring are fighting as usual. And… <i>they</i> have acceded to our terms, but I suggest we remain vigilant.”</p>
<p>“I see. Good. And that business this morning?”</p>
<p>“It is as we thought. The Ashen Demon was contracted to kill Kostas. It appears unrelated to our movements, but…”</p>
<p>The woman moved her hand from her silver hair to the cold glass, watching the window fog up near her warm fingertips.</p>
<p>“That fool Kostas murdered his own wife and scrambled to clean it up using his connections. But he left traces everywhere; <i>any</i> mercenary with a bit of skill would be able to do the job. I can only presume the one who hired <i>the</i> Ashen Demon did so to send a message.” She curled her fingers into a tight fist. “A message to <i>us</i>.”</p>
<p>There was a shift in the darkness as the man lowered his head.</p>
<p>“I am in agreement, my lady. Please, allow me a few more hours; I will confirm our suspicions.”</p>
<p>“Please do. And after that, contact Horsebow-20.” Edelgard finally turned her head away from the window, tearing her eyes away from the moon. They shone violet as the gentle light reflected off, transforming into a predatory gaze of an eagle.</p>
<p>“I’d like to meet the demon of Fódlan City.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Gallery Walk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h4>
  <div class="center">Wilhelm Library, Garreg Mach University campus</div>
</h4>
<h4>
  <div class="center">Eighth Day of the Horsebow Moon, morning</div>
</h4>
<p>The black eagle of the Hresvelg family was spread across the doors to the Wilhelm Library. Built nearly two centuries ago, the stone structure was a donation from Edelgard’s ancestor to Garreg Mach University. She often felt uncomfortable seeing the emblem of her family on nearly half the buildings in the Adrestian borough, whether they were ancient landmarks or shining skyscrapers.</p>
<p>This building wasn’t in the Adrestian borough, though. It wasn’t in Faerghus nor Leicester either. The only place in Fódlan City where one could stand outside the three boroughs was the Garreg Mach campus. Edelgard wrinkled her nose. The headquarters of the Seiros Conglomerate, dead-center of the city. Very telling.</p>
<p>But there was little to be done about it at the moment. For now, it was time to host an art exhibition. Edelgard pushed open the eagle doors and entered the library.</p>
<p>Mostly everything had been set up the night before. The moving partitions were in their places and tables and decorations were laid out. A short, green-haired student balanced on a stepstool near the back wall, adjusting a portrait of a young woman.</p>
<p>Edelgard didn’t want to yell in the library, so she approached him until she could greet him at a normal volume.</p>
<p>“Ignatz, it’s nice to—”</p>
<p>“WAH?!” The boy jumped at her voice, then began to tip to the side. “AHH…! Ah…?”</p>
<p>“Are you okay, Ignatz?” Edelgard asked. Her left arm supported the boy’s back while her right hooked underneath his knees. In other words, a bridal carry. “I’m sorry to have startled you.”</p>
<p>“Ah, no… Thank you…” Ignatz’s ears flushed pink. “Um… E— Edelgard? Could you, uh, put me down please?”</p>
<p>“What? Oh, yes, of course. There you go.” She lowered her arms so the boy could get his feet under him.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Ignatz sighed. “OH! Not that I disliked it— wait no, not that I liked it particularly either—”</p>
<p>“I understand, Ignatz.” Ignatz Victor was a sophomore, same as Edelgard, but she got the impression he was intimidated by her. To be fair, she got that impression from a good number of people. Edelgard gestured to the wall. “Are you almost finished?”</p>
<p>He nodded. “We’re just waiting for Sylvain to come back with refreshments, then everything will be ready.”</p>
<p>As if cued, the doors to the library opened, and a tall redhead pushed through. His hands were occupied by a large cardboard box overflowing with party size chip bags.</p>
<p>“If it isn’t the most beautiful princess in all of Adrestia!” Sylvain Gautier flashed her a big grin as he set down his cargo. “You get more and more gorgeous each time I see you, Edelgard.”</p>
<p>She sighed as she approached. Sylvain was a dependable teammate, but must he act like this all the time? Right as she opened her mouth to admonish him, someone else beat her to it.</p>
<p>“Sylvain, stop it. That’s no way to greet anyone.” Edelgard halted.</p>
<p>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.</p>
<p>They locked eyes as soon as he stepped into the library’s entrance.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Edelgard.” His face was stiff, but the young man maintained a relaxed tone.</p>
<p>“Dimitri. Thank you for helping out Sylvain.” He put down his box of two-liter bottles. “You could have just left it all to him.”</p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>Dimitri laughed, his bangs falling into his eyes. “We were going the same direction, so it was no trouble.”</p>
<p>“Oh, is that so? I’ll have you know that this event has a dress code.”</p>
<p>“Not worry, princess,” Sylvain poked his head around the door as he left to get another box of snacks. A large man held the door open for him. Dedue Molinaro. “I brought appropriate clothes for these two, plus Ignatz, just like you asked.”</p>
<p>“That’s perfect, then, thank you.” Edelgard never would have expected it when she first met the senior, but Sylvain was incredibly resourceful and observant. The moment Ignatz had informed them that he lacked business casual attire, Sylvain immediately offered to lend some. He’d even beaten Edelgard’s speed-dial to Hubert asking for a tailor.</p>
<p>“Our fraternity has a freshman about Ignatz’s size,” Sylvain had explained.</p>
<p>Beta Lambda Phi was an exclusive fraternity for rich kids from the Faerghus borough, though it had a few exceptions regarding pedigree. It took a recommendation from an existing member to join, so the group was quite tightly-knit, with Dimitri at its center.</p>
<p>The fraternity boys finished unloading the food and drink into the building, and Edelgard got to arranging the tables and chairs. Dimitri and Dedue offered to help, but Sylvain ushered them to the other part of the library to wait until the event. Edelgard raised her eyebrows.</p>
<p>“That was attentive of you.”</p>
<p>Sylvain shrugged. “Whatever’s going on with you and Dimitri is none of my business.”</p>
<p>Edelgard didn’t reply. No matter how much of a fool he made himself out to be, flirting with any female creature that moved, Sylvain could read the atmosphere well. <i>Too</i> well for her liking. Just another reason to avoid interacting with him, capable as he was. She wondered how much he actually knew about her and the world she lived in, as the second son of the Gautiers.</p>
<p>Sylvain let the conversation drop, heading over to help Ignatz with the rest of the artwork.</p>
<p>Ten minutes before the gallery opened, the doors to Wilhelm Library once again were thrown open. Edelgard felt her eyes snap immediately to the individual that entered and followed her figure across the library floor as she approached.</p>
<p>“Professor!” Edelgard greeted, her face uncontrollably stretching into a smile. Beleth lazily saluted in greeting, and Edelgard felt her chest tighten.</p>
<p><i>Stop that</i>, she scolded herself, a command that unfortunately went unfollowed. There was little time to school her expression before a yawn cut through the room.</p>
<p>Following Beleth was a man a head taller than her, but with her dark blue hair and eyes, as well as similar facial features. His clothes appeared rumpled and his hair stuck upwards on the left side of his head. </p>
<p>“Professor!” called Ignatz. “You’re finally here! And this is…?”</p>
<p>“Byleth, my younger brother,” Beleth introduced while Byleth rubbed his eyes. “He actually has a few pieces of his own up today.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, right, ‘younger.’ We’re twins, Bel.” Byleth swatted at his bed head as if suddenly aware it was there. Edelgard suddenly felt very tingly. <i>Bel.</i> “Why do they call you ‘professor’? You’re just a tutor.”</p>
<p>“‘Cos she’s better at teaching than any of the actual professors,” Sylvain cut in, holding out his hand. “I’m Sylvain.”</p>
<p>“Byleth.” They shook, Sylvain vigorously and Byleth, less so.</p>
<p>Beleth scowled. “All I do is run a tutoring group. I’m a bit insulted on the behalf of actual professors. Anyway, where did you put By’s photos? I want to take pictures since our dad couldn’t make it.”</p>
<p>As Ignatz led the twins over to a wall of the library, Edelgard caught Byleth’s gaze. His eyes were a deep, unfathomable blue, not to mention unusually steady in the face of her intimidating stare. He really did look like her teacher. Byleth nodded in acknowledgement and followed his sister.</p>
<p>Edelgard’s phone rang. The caller was unknown, but she answered anyway. Most likely, it was… </p>
<p>“Hubert.”</p>
<p>“Lady Edelgard, I apologize if I am interrupting the preparations for the gallery. However, your father is indisposed, and has asked for you to represent the Hresvelg family at the Leicester masquerade.”</p>
<p>The current head of the Hresvelg family, both capital and lowercase “F,” was her father, Ionius Hresvelg IX. He was a sickly man so Edelgard often acted as his representative in recent years. This sort of situation wasn’t surprising in the least.</p>
<p>“Inform the Riegan Group that I’ll be attending in place of my father, then. I am his <i>official</i> representative, so they shouldn’t feel too put out. Prepare an outfit accordingly as well before coming over to the library.”</p>
<p>“As you wish.” Hubert answered without missing a beat. Edelgard suspected that he was already prepared for a scenario where she was to go to the masquerade. Hubert Vestra was the most capable person she knew.</p>
<p>After hanging up, Edelgard sighed. It was going to be a long day.</p><h4>
  <div class="center">Wilhelm Library, Garreg Mach University campus</div>
</h4>
<h4>
  <div class="center">Eighth Day of the Horsebow Moon, noon</div>
</h4>
<p>The library was bustling with visitors when Claude walked into the venue. Students and professors alike strolled and lingered by the walls where artwork was hung. It was quite an impressive turnout given the fact that it aligned with the founding day of the Leicester borough.</p>
<p>A shine of silver caught his eye, which reminded Claude of the most prominent reason for the gallery’s success. A young woman was greeting incoming visitors at the entry to the gallery, a picture perfect smile and long silvery hair that couldn’t be missed.</p>
<p>Edelgard Hresvelg. Mayor Hresvelg’s only daughter and, more importantly, the lesser family head of her family’s centuries-old criminal empire — the Hresvelg Family. Confusing naming, to say the least, but that was how intertwined the lineage was with the organization and Fódlan City itself. Claude could only wonder how many people were here to see her instead of the art. Certainly, he was one of them.</p>
<p>
  <i>They say, “Know thy enemy,” after all.</i>
</p>
<p>Not that he had any interest in making an enemy of one so powerful. Not yet, at least.</p>
<p>Claude leisurely walked towards her, and, as expected of someone of her position, she immediately noticed him. He’d dressed to the standards of the exhibition, sporting a simple white dress shirt and black pants. Even though Edelgard was dressed similarly in a black blazer and crimson dress shirt, he couldn’t help but feel underdressed in her presence.</p>
<p>He could tell she knew exactly who he was by the way her body shifted to face him, among everyone else in the crowd.</p>
<p>Impressive, considering he’d only been attending Garreg Mach University for three weeks. They’d never met, but Claude and Edelgard locked eyes. When he got closer, he raised his hand in greeting.</p>
<p>“Miss Hresvelg,” he greeted. “It’s so good to finally meet you… Wait, my apologies.” He immediately switched his gaze to be more serious and dipped into an exaggerated bow. “It is my <i>greatest</i> honor to be graced with your <i>majestic</i> presence.”</p>
<p>Claude could tell by the silence that followed that she was not impressed.</p>
<p>“Tch.” He glanced up to see a tall, dark figure standing just behind a cold Edelgard. If it was even possible, he showed even more distaste for Claude than the Ice Princess.</p>
<p>“And you!” Claude exclaimed, straightening with a grin. “You must be the ever-talented Hubert Vestra. Your reputation precedes you, sir. As imposing and terrifying as the rumors suggested!”</p>
<p>Claude could feel the stares of the crowd, eyes wide like they couldn’t believe that someone was stupid enough to piss off two of the most dangerous individuals in Fódlan City. He liked to think of it as daring, however. After all, he was acting like this with the intention of getting under their skin.</p>
<p>“Claude Riegan,” Edelgard finally said. “I can’t say the same.”</p>
<p>Ouch.</p>
<p>“However,” she continued, flat and almost robotically, “regardless of my personal opinion, welcome to the Garreg Mach Art Exhibition. I hope you enjoy viewing the beautiful pieces we have on display.”</p>
<p>Claude only gave her a winning smile, passing her and the still-glaring Hubert, while Edelgard fought to keep a grimace off of her face. No doubt she knew who he was as well. He lingered a few steps behind them.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, and,” he said to get their attention, “I’m looking forward to seeing you at the ball tonight.”</p>
<p>The cold tingle up his spine told him all he needed to know of their reactions as he joined the slow flow of people walking along the walls of the gallery. He chuckled to himself. Hilda had only texted him the change in the guest list ten minutes ago, but he knew it would thoroughly bother them that the information had seemingly spread so quickly, though only the organizers knew so far.</p>
<p>He saw Hilda’s pink pigtails across the room, bouncing as she chattered to a group of admirers around a glass case, no doubt containing her jewelry pieces. He reminded himself to get an interview from her later.</p>
<p>The reason he’d come to the exhibition, beyond poking the eagle, was, after all, to report on it. The first thing he’d done at Garreg Mach University was join Monastery Magazine as a correspondent writer, since it was an easy excuse for gathering information. He planned on making quick work of the article using acquaintances he knew were here — namely, Hilda, a participant, and Ignatz, an organizer who was much more easily approachable than the Adrestian heiress and her scary shadow dog.</p>
<p>Claude broke away from the steady flow of spectators to make his way towards Hilda, her bright voice drifting above the hum of the room. Out of all the people he’d met since coming to Fódlan City, Hilda definitely was one of his favorites. It was hard to explain beyond… well, Claude felt they were painted in the same colors.</p>
<p>And speaking of the same colors… Hilda was standing next to a tall young man sharing her bright pink hair. Claude’s small smile grew even larger.</p>
<p>“Hilda!” he called out. The two Goneril siblings turned to the sound of his voice. He raised a hand, half in the air as a greeting. “Fancy running into you here!”</p>
<p>“Claude…” Hilda gave him a tilted look. He most definitely did not just “run into” her and, conveniently, her brother, the leader of the Alliance’s vassal Goneril Group.</p>
<p>“You know each other, Hilda?” The man faced his sister, and Claude gave her a small shrug behind his back. He was the one to tell her to invite her brother, despite all the lengths Hilda had told him she’d gone to keep her brother away from the event. The two had already met briefly when Oswald Riegan, Claude’s grandfather, had introduced him to the Alliance leaders, but it was the shortest of introductions.</p>
<p>If Claude wanted to get by in the Alliance, he’d, funnily enough, need allies.</p>
<p>“Yeah, we met a week ago in class.” Hilda quickly schooled her expression into a welcoming smile. “We’re totally friends now! Claude is part of the school magazine staff, you know? Even though he just moved here!”</p>
<p>Holst Goneril, the young head of the Goneril Group, nodded in acknowledgement.</p>
<p>“As expected of the heir to the Riegan Group,” he said. Claude was about to mark Holst off as a much more difficult person to ally with when the man continued. “Befriending my talented sister was a smart decision. I wholeheartedly agree. Isn’t Hilda just the most amazing, most beautiful, most precious—”</p>
<p>“Holst! Stop that!” Hilda swatted at her brother’s arm, glancing at Claude apologetically. “What he wanted to say is that it’s impressive that you’re already a writer for the Monastery Magazine even though they’re, like, super selective. <i>Not</i> any of the stuff he just said.”</p>
<p>Claude wondered if it would be rude to laugh, but someone else had already made up their mind as he heard a high-pitched exhale from behind the pink-haired siblings.</p>
<p>As they turned to see the one who’d made the sound, Claude was already looking at the pair that had approached near-silently. A man and a woman, both with dark-blue hair and eyes and features so similar that it was obvious they were brother and sister. The woman was holding a hand in front of her mouth that did nothing to hide her laughter since her entire body was shaking with it. Her brother, on the other hand, was simply looking spaced-out a step behind her, as if he was an old dog being dragged around by a disproportionately-enthusiastic owner.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’m sorry…” the woman said, waving the hand in front of her face as the remaining giggles left her. “Hilda, you really should have introduced me to your brother earlier.”</p>
<p>“Professor, you know why I didn’t want to! Ugh, now both of you are going to make fun of me like this!” Claude might have only known Hilda for two weeks, but he’d known her long enough to be surprised to see her flustered. “Oh, yeah, Professor, this is Claude Riegan. He’s a transfer student!”</p>
<p>“Pleasure to meet you,” Hilda’s “Professor” greeted, extending a hand. Noticing his questioning look, she said, “Ah, call me Beleth. I’m not actually a professor, that’s just a nickname they came up with.” She rolled her eyes, adding, “This is my brother, Byleth.”</p>
<p>Claude shook her hand and glanced at the man behind her. He only nodded, eyes focused on some far-away spot. As his sister and the Goneril siblings chatted, with Claude chiming in with small comments, Byleth never once snapped out of his daze. It was almost impressive how much Byleth was putting his reluctance to attend this event on display. Once the conversation turned to something Claude couldn’t follow — some TV show that Hilda was watching — he approached the spaced-out man.</p>
<p>“Enjoying the art?” Claude asked him jokingly.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, Byleth responded in a disappointed voice:</p>
<p>“I’d like it better in a couple hours. Midday just doesn’t do it justice.” Before Claude could ask him what he meant, Byleth’s head perked up. “Yuri’s over there. Bel, I’ll meet you in front in ten. Any later and we’ll be late.”</p>
<p>“It’s that late already?” Beleth frowned. “That’s too bad. I have to speak with Edelgard before we go. Claude, it was nice meeting you!” After exchanging goodbyes with Hilda and Holst, their little group split up. Claude melted back into the slowly circling crowd around the room as he watched his two new acquaintances move about the gallery.</p>
<p>Despite the implied urgency of their appointment, Byleth took a leisurely stroll across the room to a corner where many photographs were hung, and joined with a group of young adults about his age. Claude quickly identified the man Byleth was talking to as “Yuri”. While the relationships of the mysterious Byleth raised curiosity in Claude, the actions of the sister were infinitely more interesting.</p>
<p>Beleth had made a beeline to the entrance of the library — no, it was more accurate to say that she’d made a beeline to a person at the entrance: Edelgard Hresvelg herself. It was the first time that day that Claude was regretful that he’d teased the young heiress to the point of a bad first impression, and now was most likely barred from joining the tantalizing conversation. Little Miss Hresvelg was smiling brightly, to the point where her campus nickname of “Ice Princess” couldn’t apply. Personally, Claude was surprised. To think she’d beam like that in public, especially when she knew that all eyes were on her…</p>
<p>
  <i>Ah.</i>
</p>
<p>A tiny, flickering lightbulb went off in his head. It was just a suspicion, barely predicated on any facts. He’d be hard-pressed to support this hypothesis out loud, but… Claude’s instincts were usually right. He snickered to himself, glad to have another stick to poke the beast. It wasn’t as if he wrote for a tabloid, but… </p>
<p>If the young, successful, imposing heiress of the Adrestian borough had a little crush, wouldn’t that make for the perfect headline?</p><h4>
  <div class="center">Wilhelm Library, Garreg Mach University campus</div>
</h4>
<h4>
  <div class="center">Eighth Day of the Horsebow Moon, afternoon</div>
</h4>
<p>Beleth pushed off the brick wall when she noticed her brother approaching. He walked with a sluggish gait and unfocused eyes. She sighed. What would Byleth’s future prospects be if he looked like that all the time? Like he was thinking about absolutely nothing?</p>
<p><i>I guess there are people out there who are attracted to dumb guys</i>, she thought to herself. <i>He was just talking to one we know.</i></p>
<p>“You’re thinking something rude,” he scowled out once he was in an earshot.</p>
<p>“Oh, you could tell?” Beleth laughed, before schooling her face back into a neutral expression. “Dad called to check up, by the way. If traffic isn’t bad, we might even get there early. Which is good because I’m totally going to have to tie your tie for you.”</p>
<p>“Not true,” her brother grumbled, though his hand went to grab his opposite shoulder. The telltale sign of Byleth not being sure.</p>
<p>As they walked to their car parked at the curb, Byleth looked at the bright sky.</p>
<p>“It really is a shame about the timing, huh.”</p>
<p>“You’ll get another chance.” Beleth cocked her head to the side. “Oh, and about that student we just met…”</p>
<p>“Oswald Riegan’s grandson, the mysterious newly-instated successor to the Alliance, Claude Riegan.” Byleth droned, as if reading from a script. “We didn’t take any of <i>those</i> jobs, did we?” He opened the passenger side door for his sister before heading around to the driver’s side. Once both were in the car, Beleth replied:</p>
<p>“Nope. No taking those jobs unless we want this city in pieces. But no getting attached, just in case, m’kay? <i>Don’t say it</i>,” she began abruptly, but Byleth was already talking.</p>
<p>“Says you. You’re the one tutoring every potential target in the city.”</p>
<p>“‘Tutoring’ doesn’t translate to ‘getting attached to.’”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
<p>“Just drive.” Beleth frowned. She was <i>not</i> getting attached. “We have a masquerade to crash.”</p>
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